


Cash or Check?

by RiseiTekiSensei



Series: Not Forgotten Investigations: Case Files [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Noir, Detective Noir, Drinking, F/M, Noirtale, Pre-Game(s), Smoking, Swearing, game start, prompt - AU, sorielweek, sorielweek 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseiTekiSensei/pseuds/RiseiTekiSensei
Summary: Sans got a call from his mysterious contact about a new case.





	Cash or Check?

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 6 of #SorielWeek2017 on tumblr. The prompt was AU. You can find more information and other submissions at sorielweek.tumblr.com.

It was too damned early. 

 

Sans had only just dragged his bones into bed when Papyrus was waking him up about a phone call. Well, sorta. He’d probably gotten in closer to 4am than 10am but it still felt too damned early. 

Sans passed by the front everyone called The Dragon’s Horde, the sign said open but nobody was inside the antiques store. Nobody ever was. Turns out the old coot, Gerson, was none too fond of parting with his so called ‘treasures’. Not that it really matter, nor was it the reason Sans was there. 

The short skeleton-monster puffed on his cigarette as he turned down an alley just passed the Horde. It was dark and muddy and had the kinda stench that made most of the right n’ proper citizens turn the other way. Good thing Sans wasn’t right n’ proper. 

 

It wasn’t raining yet, but the clouds looked ready to change that forecast at a moment’s notice. But that didn’t mean the alley wasn’t full of standing water, someone had to hose the damn thing down every night ‘er people might start to get suspicion. Sans had been one of the poor bastards who’d needed to use that alley a time ‘er two so he made sure not to let his pant cuffs drag through any of the puddles. 

His collection of stains and wrinkles was legendary but he made it a point not to stink. 

 

Sans didn’t bother ta’ knock on the wooden door that seemed to lead to Gerson’s back room, but that any self-respecting drunkard knew it didn’t. Grillbz always kept the place locked up when he left, but Sans had been called here so he knew the joint would be unlocked. And with a quick shimmy of the poorly greased knob, Sans managed to shove the door open. 

The house lights were on, but the ceiling fans weren’t. One of them had recently started squeakin’ and Sans knew Grillby turned them on when he left, so clearly his contact had shut them off. The chairs were all still flipped up onto the tables and the floor was clean, but only if ya’ didn’t look too hard at it’s splintering wood. The lights to the bar were off, the neon sign hung sadly on the wall, grey tubes dull and lifeless. Technically, the place was closed. But technically, it also didn’t exist so operating procedures were more like suggestions.

Sans turned towards the bar, despite it’s unoccupancy, planning to pour himself a drink. He and the dame who owned this joint had a fairly good understanding. She told him not ta’ pour himself drinks whenever he liked and he knew she wasn’t gonna stop him anytime soon. But the issue was that he wasn’t the only soul there. 

 

Feet swingin’ back and forth atop a barstool, sat a little snot-nosed brat, suckin’ down what Sans could only assume was chocolate milk, like this was some malt shop. The kid hadn’t turned to look at him seemingly intent to continue whatever they were doing.  _ writing maybe… could be drawin’.  _

Their mop of unruly hair bopped along with the rest of them, to some internal beat and Sans took the time to study them a bit more closely. Their stripped shirt had some rips in it and they seemed to be beatin’ him in the stain and wrinkle department. On the stool next to ‘em, sat an old surplus backpack that looked like it’d actually been dragged out of some trench and shipped over seas. It was crammed full of stuff, but Sans couldn’t tell what it was in it 

Then they seemed to notice his gaze and looked over their slight shoulder at him. Their face was smeared with dirt and yellowing bruises. Someone had put a bandage over the cut on their cheek, but Sans was more concerned with the kid’s eyes. They stared unblinkingly at him, not surprised or worried, just curious. It was the kinda curiosity that would lead to bruises if they weren’t sneaky enough, and Sans figured they hadn’t been sneaky enough. Their eyes seemed to almost glow in the dark dirt smears on their face, they hadn’t given up on themself no matter who else had. 

Sans didn’t dare break eye contact with the kid, he didn’t speak and neither did they. That kid had a secret and Sans didn’t think he wanted to know what it was- 

They turned back to the papers they had spread out on the bar top and Sans tamped out his cigarette. Whatever the kid had seen in him and made them dismiss him and Sans felt relieved for it. 

 

He was glad he didn’t have to turn his back on them, though. The stairs to the upper office and catwalks were just to his left. Sans managed to climb them without making it too obvious that he hadn’t let the kid leave his line of sight. Their little legs had started swinging again. 

Sans headed straight for the office not bothering to meander or study the bar below like he often did from up here. He was already thirty minutes late, anyways. 

With the smirk he knocked on the ancient door. 

 

_ *knock, knock* _

 

The pane of frosted glass rattled in its housing, but Sans didn’t care. No, he was far more interested in the voice who called through it, “Who is there?” 

“nobel.” Sans smirked. 

A soft giggle whispered under the door before the lady inside replied, “Nobel who?”

Without missing a beat Sans opened the door and smirked, “there’s  **no bell** , s’why i knocked.”

He was met with a musical laugh from the woman sitting at the desk. She, much like the room, was very plain when it came to her decoration. No frills or gems or nothing. She wore all black right down to the gloves and veil, simple fabric with no sparkle or shimmer. But it was soft and he assumed fairly comfortable. And that described the room rather nicely too, soft and comfortable, but nothing was without its purpose. 

She hid her face, her looks, hell even her race from the world. Although, there weren’t too many seven foot tall human females, so it was a safe bet that she was at least a monster. Not that Sans had to bet, he was one of the very few who knew her. 

Sans stepped into her office and closed the door behind him, he never looked away from her. She still had a pen in her hand and several books lay open on her desk along with a her very old but well-cared for adding machine. It might have been too early for him, but she was well into her work day, if ya’ could call illegal book keepin’ work. 

“Do lock the door, please.” She commented as she looked back to her work. 

Sans didn’t hesitate to follow her instruction, but his mind did hiccup. There were only every two reasons she’d making him lock the door. Either, she wanted to read him the riot act or… she had something a bit more  _ thrillin’  _ in mind. Sans always hoped it was the latter even though it was more often the former. 

As he turned back to her she took off her veil and plucked her cheaters off the desk. She clearly wasn’t quite ready to talk with him yet and Sans knew better than to bug her while she was working. He headed towards her little conversation circle and smirked at the plush couch, he could think of a couple different times when that locked door had ended on that couch. He hoped today was gonna be one of those times, but it wasn’t why he’d come over there. Instead he went onto peruse her rather fine collection of hooch. 

She wasn’t gonna be happy about him drinking so early in the day, but she’d also been the one to drag his tired bones out of bed before noon so he didn’t much care. He poured himself a glass and then on a whim poured her one too. She probably wouldn’t accept it but then he’d get a second glass of her vintage scotch. 

With both glasses in hand, he shuffled back to her desk as the scratching of her pen filled the office. Sans placed her glass down on the old gleaming wood and plunked himself down in one of the chairs across from her. He tossed his battered hat in the other one. She didn’t look up, which was fine by him. He loved to watch her work… 

 

He loved to watch her, period. 

  
He knew he carried a torch for her and it would’ve made him feel foolish if he didn’t know she felt the same way. They’d never talked about it, but they hadn’t ever needed to. What had started as a friendship and grown into something deeper and realer than anything he’d ever shared with another, dame ‘er otherwise.

But what a dame she was. She was  _ it _ . Soft white fur, long elegant snout, velvet covered ears, cute as a button horns, and eyes like liquid fire. Rich and warm and brilliant, with a wit like hell-smoke to back the brain behind ‘em. She was a whisper sister and she knew her business better than anyone in this rain-slogged city. 

“I can feel you watching me.” She hummed without looking up from her work, but Sans could see the flash of pearly fangs as her smile formed. 

He chose to keep his peace instead of replying and took a sip from his drink. Her smile twitched wider. Sans could feel his own growing to match. 

 

After several more minutes of uninterrupted silence, Toriel release a sigh and put down her pen. Sans smirked as she pulled off her glasses and met his gaze. 

She frowned down at him as her eyes took in his rumpled appearance and the glass in his hand. She then steepled her fingers and Sans felt the hope of this being a friendly visit whither away. “You do not look well.” It hadn’t been said with and hint of concern, but Sans knew she worried about him. But that’s what janes did, so he couldn’t fault her. 

“tell me somthin’ i don’t know.” Sans managed around a half-stifled yawn. 

Her brows drew down and she studied him at length, but she made no further inquire after his health. “Very well. How about, I have a job for you.”, she stated as she reached into a drawer to pull out a file. 

Sans blinked at her for a moment, before muttering, “shit, i forgot about the third reason…” Sans finished up his drink placed it next to her untouched one. 

At her slightly confused expression, he waved her off and she let it go. “I assume that you saw the child downstair, yes?” At his nodded she asked, “And what do you think of them?’

“i think you should dump ‘em at an orphanage the first chance you get.”

 

At her glower, Sans relented some, “look, tori. i know you wanna save ‘em all, but i don’t think you should start with that one… they know something i don’t think either of us want to.” He didn’t want to admit how much they gave him the heebie-jeebeies, but he really didn’t think that kid was good news. 

“Ah, so you noticed it too… Would you like to know how they came to be in my establishment?” When Sans said nothing she continued anyway, “Last night just before Grillby left they came pelting down the alley with four armed goons chasing after them. They managed to shove past Grillby and those-  **buffoons** dared not follow them in here.” 

Sans smirked despite himself, Grillby had made quite the name for himself as the most no nonsense bartender in the city and anyone who challenged him on it gotta face full of fire. That and the fact that everyone one knew the Madam who ran this juice joint only had two rules, don’t hurt kids and no weapons in the bar. He didn’t bother with any of the standard ‘why did you let them stay’ questions and jumped to the ones that mattered, “who were the thugs?” 

Toriel smiled grimly at him, “I am afraid they were some of the Tarassaco boys…” 

 

Sans sucked in a breath. The air whistled through his teeth very softly, but Toriel’s smile became a grimace of understanding. The damned Tarassaco family were the worst bunch of crooks who operated this close to the Line and as of late they’d been making a push into more densely populated monster communities. They were also the same bastards that everyone knew were behind the children smuggling ring last year, but the good for nothing badges didn’t have enough ‘evidence’. Sans would bet his soul that the reason they never had enough evidence because someone on the force was in the Don’s pocket. 

“why’re they after the kid?”, Sans questioned and Tori rolled her jewel colored eyes at him. 

“If I knew that, then I would not need you.” She crooned sarcastically at him. Sans didn’t let her mirth affect him, this wasn’t a joke. 

“tori, they don’t mess ‘eround. you gotta tell me whatever the kid’s told you about this.”, Sans demanded. He wasn’t about to make a blind jump, not back into the water with the Tarassacos. 

Toriel pursed her lips and studied his face, before she got up and came around the desk. She settled her long voluptuous frame on the edge of her desk opposite him. He’d seen her use this tactic dozens of times, she’d let her size and sudden invasion of her opponents personal space intimidate them. Except, he wasn’t intimidated by her size and she knew it. 

“That is the thing… They have not said a single word since they came crashing into the bar. I am starting to believe that they cannot speak.” Toriel said carefully as her long manicured claws clicked mutedly against the desk behind her, she had yet to take off her gloves.

“shit.”, Sans muttered. This wasn’t good, if the kid couldn’t testify then how the hell were they supposed to catch- And that wasn’t his problem. Hell, he didn’t even know if the brat had seen anything worth ratting on in the first place… But his gut said otherwise. Sans scrubbed at his tired eyes and repeated himself, “shit.” 

“I am well aware of this situation, Sans. What I need to know is why the Tarassaco Family is so interest in that child.”, Toriel stated cooly. Her eyes level and calculating, Sans shivered with something that wasn’t fear. Her mouth curled up very slowly. 

 

_ shit. _

 

Sans blew out his breath and pushed to his feet, he needed to think and stand so close to her wasn’t helping. “tori, i get that you gotta soft spot for kids, but…” He trailed off. She wasn’t going to want to hear this, but she had to be rational about this. He turned back to look at her, the chair separating them. “-maybe, ya’ should let this one go.” 

The hurt that flashed in her eyes, seared him. “They came to me, Sans-” 

“they were runnin’ down an alley in the dark and pushed into the first open door they could find.” Sans interrupted harshly, but he didn’t make eye contact. 

The silence stretched and Sans felt his shoulders hunch with the weight of it. He hated hurting her, but she could be so stubborn about things like this and he didn’t know what he’d do if she got hurt- 

 

A gentle touch made him turn. 

After he had turned around she must have taken off her gloves, for now one of her soft paws cupped his face, while the other turned him towards her. “They _came_ to me, Sans. And I cannot let them down.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but it was her eyes that had him melting. So much pain, so much loss. Sans hadn’t gotten the whole story from her, but he knew enough to know that she’d lost her children and the grief had almost consumed her. 

Her fingers gently brushed over his face as she continued, “And I _need_ your help, please Comic.” 

And just like that his resolve broke. He closed his eyes and turned his head towards her palm, letting whispers of magic sooth her aching soul. Her other hand came up to brush his other cheek and Sans turned back towards her. “alright, tori. i’ll take the case.” 

Her smile was blinding but not enough to hide the echoes of pain still caught in the rubies of her eyes. “Thank you.” 

Sans snorted, “yeah, yeah. now, what’s your plan for hidin’ the kid?” 

 

And to Sans’ horror, she smirked at him. One of her hands moved from his face to trail a delicate claw down his shirt. “ _ Well… _ ” 

“oh, hell no.” Sans blurted at once. He made to step back but her hand caught his tie. Damn it, the one time he put one on was gonna get him killed. “i’m not a babysitter and you gotta get the kid out of the city. so if i’m workin’ the case i’m not gonna be with the kid.” 

Her fangs flashed coyly at him, “Yes, but your brother loves children. I think he would be more than happy to watch over them for a few days…” She tugged him closer again, now putting his face more in line with her assets than her eyes. 

“i- uh- damn it, tori.” Sans muttered as he tried to regain some breathing room, although he didn’t try very hard. “ya’ can’t just foist this whole mess onto me and my bro. that kid needs real protection, not in this city. like wit-sec ‘er somethin’.” 

Toriel released his ties and his face, only to place both of her hands on her hips and glowered down at him. “You want me to give them to the police?  _ Me _ ?” 

Sans frowned and stuffed his hands into his overcoats pockets, the same coat he’d forgotten to take off when he’d come in. “no, but i could…” At her increased glare Sans shrugged, “i could give ‘em to undyne. i know she not your favorite, but she good to core. she’ll do right by ‘em.”

“If things heat up, then I think it might be a good idea.” Toriel relented after another moment. “But, as of right now we need to find out how much they know and you can only do that if they are with you.” 

 

Hell, she had a point. He hated when she did that, because it made him realize how much better she’d be at this detective nonsense then him. Sans sighed, but didn’t consent. He got a flash of the kid from a little bit ago, their eyes sharp and determined. This didn’t feel like a good idea. 

Toriel must have seen his hesitation because she said in a much softer voice, “Sans…” 

When he looked up at her, she continued, “I need them to be with someone that I trust with my own life… Because I am.” The hurt was back in her face and Sans could see just how deep it ran. He’d felt those wounds on her soul once before and he was afraid that she meant it. She couldn’t bare to lose another child… 

“i’ll protect ‘em.” Sans said. Her eyes snapped to him and her arms came loosely around herself as she tried to recollect her composure. He took one of her hands and guided her to the sofa. After making her sit and going to grab her glass for the desk, Sans rested a hipbone on the couch’s arm. 

She took a sip of her drink and sighed. “I am sorr-” 

“nope.” Sans interrupted. “i don’t need ‘er want ya’ to be sorry. you have every right to feel hurt- ta’  **be** hurt. just like you have every right ta’ try and recover in your own way… and i want ya’ to recover, tori.” Then he added with an flippant air, “so if that means doubling my workload and harassing me to no end, then so be it.” 

Toriel’s grin held more warmth in it than it had moments ago, even her eyes smiled. “Oh, yes. Poor abused you.” She set her drink down and Sans watched her smile turn suggestive, “And to think, I was even considering paying you~” 

He turned more fully towards her and felt his smirk go a little goofy. “oh, yeah? cash or check?” 

Her fingers pulled him into her lap and he barely managed to contain an irrational giggle. “Oh cash, of course. Half up front now…”, she purred, “And the rest after,  _ maybe I will even throw in a bonus. _ ” 

 

Sans felt his soul thrum in anticipation. Luckily, she didn’t make him wait long. 

Her mouth came down on his with the slow burning need that often started their trysts. He could feel the soft skin of her lips mold itself again the curves of his teeth and he couldn’t stop the spike of magic that flooded their kiss. Her lips parted with the whisper of an escaped breath. It was warm and damp. 

Sans shifted in her lap so he could straddle the larger women. Her hands, that had initially been on his sides, found their way to his belt. His fingers tangled in the velvet fur on the back of her neck as he pressed himself against her, trapping her hands between them as he deepened the kiss.

He’d never found much use for having a tongue, unless it was tasting her. He could feel her own tongue, much longer than he had originally assumed, touch and taste his own teeth. Flicking into his own mouth ever so often, just enough to drive him wild. Despite, the lack of maneuvering room Sans could feel her hands start moving again as they expertly worked at his belt. 

 

_ *knock, knock* _

 

Sans almost toppled off of her as his eyes snapped open. Toriel had had the wit to grab onto his shirt when he jerk back. His eye-lights meet her jeweled irises, they both held their breath in sudden panic. They had not and did not plan to make their relationship public. 

 

_*knock, knock*_

 

Now they both shifted to look at the frosted glass in Toriel’s door and when Sans felt her stiffen underneath him, he knew she had recognized the outline of the mop of unruly hair just as he had. 

 

Sans let his head fall forward to rest against her shoulder and knew that this was going to be a much longer case than he sign up for.


End file.
